The Impotent King Rises

"Move it, Loser! That mop smells stale, just like your life," snapped a young, neatly suited employee as he passed.

David Vexley was a 35-year-old man, 185 centimeters tall, with a masculine face, broad shoulders, and arm muscles clearly defined beneath his faded blue uniform.

David paused, tightening his grip on the mop handle. He lowered his head, swallowing the remnants of his long-shattered pride.

"I'm sorry, sir," David mumbled softly.

Before David could even take a breath, footsteps approached.

"David!" Sarah called out sharply. "Mrs. Maura is calling for you. Now!"

David's heart pounded.

"What is it, Sarah?" David asked, wiping his hands on his pants.

"How should I know," Sarah scoffed, walking away.

David walked with his head down toward the large teak wood door at the end of the hall. The gold nameplate read: Maura Lannigan, a 29-year-old woman with a voluptuous, Spanish guitar-like figure, a General Manager.

Knock... Knock!

"Excuse me, Ma'am..."

"Come in," a heavy, husky voice replied from inside.

David opened the door. Maura Lannigan sat in her executive chair, her back to the giant glass window that framed the Manhattan skyline. The 38-year-old woman was still strikingly beautiful. Her black hair was neatly pinned up, revealing a long, pale neck. She wore a maroon silk blouse, the top button deliberately undone, showing a hint of alluring cleavage.

"Close the door, David, and don't forget to lock it," Maura commanded without looking up from the tablet in her hand.

David swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Yes, Mrs. Maura."

Click!

The lock turned.

Maura put down her tablet. She stood slowly, then perched on the edge of her desk.

"Come here, David," Maura said. Leaning against the edge of her desk, she looked him up and down, from his feet to his face.

David stepped forward hesitantly, looking down, afraid to meet his boss's eyes. "I-is there a problem, Ma'am?"

"A problem?" Maura chuckled. "I've received a complaint, David."

David looked up in surprise. "I-I apologize, Ma'am. I'll immediately—"

"Shhh."

Maura's maroon-painted index finger pressed against David's lips, silencing him instantly.

The woman's hand slid down from David's lips, creeping slowly to his neck, then down to his broad chest. Maura felt David's chest muscles beneath the thin uniform. She smiled, a look that seemed to say, "Just as I suspected!"

Maura's hand explored David's broad chest area, and her eyes watched him with a wild gaze. "David, since the first day you started working here, I've often watched you from behind my office curtains. When you lift the water cooler bottle... when you bend over to mop the floor with your sleeves rolled up... Your sweat, your muscles... You're like a wild bull, tamed and locked in a zoo, just for my viewing pleasure."

David froze. Cold sweat trickled down his back. "Mrs. Maura, I apologize, you must be mistaken or stressed."

David subtly tried to stop Maura's hand, which was moving increasingly wildly across his broad chest. But Maura roughly slapped his hand away.

"Mistaken, you say?" Maura flashed a smile on her beautiful face. She shoved David until his back hit the wall next to the bookshelf. "I'm the boss here, David. I decide what's right and what's wrong."

Maura's hands moved wildly. She pulled David's shirt out of his pants. One button on David's uniform popped open. Maura's hand slipped inside, her smooth skin making direct contact with David's six-pack abs.

Maura's breath hitched. She stared into David's eyes with a demanding look.

"I'm tired of rich Wall Street guys with their beer guts and big talk, but tiny 'weapons'," Maura sighed.

Her face moved close to David's neck, kissing his skin there. "I need something real, solid, and long-lasting. Prove to me that you're a man, David. Take me to the peak of earthly heaven, and you'll be my partner in crime, David..."

"Ma'am, please don't... I beg you..." David tried to restrain Maura's wrist, but his strength had vanished. The fear of being fired and the trauma of his illness paralyzed his motor nerves.

Maura ignored his refusal. She knelt in front of David. Her slender fingers quickly unbuckled David's worn belt.

Zzzip!

David's zipper was roughly pulled down.

"Come on, darling..." Maura looked up, her eyes hazy with expectation, her lips wet and slightly parted. "Show me your 'weapon of pride.' Let me indulge you. I'll give you a raise..."

Maura's hand slipped inside David's underwear, grasping the man's manhood enthusiastically. She began stroking him, providing a rhythmic massage, even occasionally using her tongue to tease the sensitive area. Maura exerted all her skill, techniques she prided herself on, which could bring any man to his knees in seconds.

One second passed.

Ten seconds.

An agonizing minute.

Silence.

Only the sound of Maura's breathing could be heard. Inside his pants, David's "property" remained asleep. Limp. Cold. It did not respond at all to Maura's warm touch.

The damned diabetes had long ago severed the nerves of pleasure and blood flow there. David closed his eyes, enduring the shame that burned his face and ears. He was not a man in this woman's eyes. He was just a broken, empty shell.

Maura's hand movements slowed, then stopped completely.

"Why is your weapon still asleep?" Maura asked, her voice rising. She tried again, rougher, more demanding. But the result was nil. "What is wrong with you?"

The atmosphere in the room changed drastically in an instant.

Maura snatched her hand away roughly. She stood up, smoothing her hair with jerky movements. Her face was flushed crimson. Not from passion, but from explosive shame and rage. She, Maura Lannigan, a woman pursued by hundreds of men, had just been rejected by the body of a low-ranking cleaner.

"What is this?" Maura hissed, her voice trembling with suppressed fury. She pointed at David's still-open, pathetic pants. "Are you... are you impotent?"

David hurriedly pulled up his zipper with trembling hands, his face deeply bowed. "I-I have a medical condition..."

SLAP!

A harsh slap landed on David's right cheek. The stinging sensation spread, but it wasn't as painful as his pride, which had shattered into a million pieces.

"Disgusting!" Maura screamed. She walked over, grabbed a wet wipe, and cleaned her hands with revulsion, scrubbing her fingers as if she had just touched a dead sewer rat. "You have the body of a Greek god, but it turns out your weapon can't even stand up like a man!"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am... I didn't mean to..."

"Shut up!" Maura threw the used wipe at David's face. The crumpled, wet tissue hit David's forehead and fell to the floor. "Get out of here! You're fired!"

David's eyes widened. "Fired? Mrs. Maura, please... don't fire me. I'll do anything, Ma'am... tell me to clean the basement storage, anything... just don't fire me."

David sank to his knees on the floor, a pathetic, pleading posture.

"A man who can't stand up doesn't deserve to stand in my company," Maura stated sharply. "And if you dare tell anyone what happened in this room, I will make sure you end up in jail on harassment charges. Who would believe a janitor like you?"

"Ma'am... I beg you..."

"GET OUT! Or I'm calling security!"

David stood and dragged his feet out of the room with the last of his strength. He walked down the long corridor, ignoring the confused stares of Sarah, the secretary.

He reached the building lobby, stepping out onto the gray, noisy New York sidewalk. Heavy rain began to fall, masking the tears he held back in the corners of his eyes. He was fired. Without severance. Without dignity.

The battered cell phone in his pocket vibrated. A message had arrived.

David opened it with trembling hands beneath the downpour.

[Mount Sinai Hospital: Final Warning. The bill for patient Silvia Vexley, totaling $5,000, remains unpaid. Please settle the balance within 48 hours or medical treatment will be discontinued.]

David squeezed the phone until its cracked screen shattered further. He looked up at the sky, letting the rain wash over his face.

"God," David whispered. "If you are real... why do you let all this happen? What did I do wrong, God? WHAT....!"